Phases of the Heart
by Anemone Kurosaki
Summary: 'The goal is to take my mind off of Edward. So why did I choose a drink that's the same color as his eyes' - Roy pours his heart out to Maes. RoyEd fluff, drunk/emotional!Roy.


Phases of the Heart

_**Disclaimer: **__My name is Anemone. There isn't a method to my madness, and I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist._

**Inspired by Christopher Snowball who is "just going through a phase" with Jed. **

* * *

><p>It was a quarter past two on a Wednesday, and etiquette was the last thing on my mind. I really should've learned to knock when Roy had the office to himself, but my arms were full of freshly printed pictures – the ink had barely dried, but Elysia just looked so cute – and he just <em>had<em> to see them before the end of the day.

Using my shoulder, I pushed open the wooden door. The squeaky hinges and my boots skidding to a stop on the dark tile announced my arrival.

"Roy! How-?" My hand was half-raised in a wave, but my usual greeting got stuck in my throat. The stack of pictures fell from my hands into a scattered mess on the floor. I jerked my glasses off, wiping them against my military jacket; I was looking for any excuse to explain this scene, and as my brain fumbled for an explanation, a smudge on the lens seemed logical.

I stood in the center of the room, lips pulled into a frown, brows furrowed. I tried to make disappointment radiate from my body and seep into my idiotic best friend.

A familiar sigh of frustration reached my ears. "What do you want, Hughes?" Roy's teeth were clenched, hands trying to hold the younger male in place.

Before I could answer, there was a frenzy of movement – a flash of gold, black and red – as Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, scooted off of the large oak desk. He pulled down his shirt, stuffed his arms into his crimson coat and readjusted his leather pants to try and hide the noticeable bulge.

Steel and flesh fingers began to hastily re-braid his hair as he bolted for the door. "Thanks for the mission assignment," he mumbled.

Roy snorted, resting his chin atop laced fingers. "Good cover, Fullmetal, but we've been found out."

Edward's cheeks flushed red. "Uh-huh. Later, bastard." There was one last look of longing, then the door closed with a bang.

I uprooted myself from the center of the floor. Ed's exit gave me enough time to gather myself. Scooping up the pictures from the floor and stuffing them in my breast-pocket – not missing the look of relief that flashed through onyx eyes – I made my way to the overstuffed chair in front of Roy's desk.

"What the hell are you thinking, idiot?" I demanded. I was angry, resisting the urge to leap across the desk and shake him. I blamed my fatherly instincts; Edward _was, _after all, like a son to me. "He's just a kid, Roy! He's not your own personal plaything!"

Roy stiffened, as if my words stung. "Are you sure you don't wanna show me those pictures? Got any cute daughter stories?" He was looking for an escape, and for an instant, I almost faltered.

"Don't try to distract me, Mustang," I warned.

He gave a sigh of defeat, turning his gaze to the ceiling tiles. "It's just a phase," he said after a few minutes.

I felt my eyebrow twitch. "That's the best you can do?"

"I'm telling you the truth, Maes." His voice was calm and level. There was a ring of sadness. "He's just curious. That's all."

I studied him for a few minutes. "…And… You want it to be more?"

Roy's face morphed into an expression of utter misery. "I told him I loved him." He dropped his head into his hands, tugging dejectedly at short strands of hair.

I let out an audible, shocked gasp. The Colonel wasn't known for uttering those three forbidden words.

"Come on," I commanded, standing and dragging him out of his swivel chair. "Let's get a drink."

( ) ( ) ( )

The small pub just around the corner from Central Command was practically vacant. We were nestled in a booth far away from prying eyes and ears. It seemed natural, pouring my heart out to Maes like this.

"You… Told Edward that you love him?" He still sounded incredulous. I couldn't blame him, really. My definition of commitment usually spanned a long weekend, not that I was proud of that.

"And he says he loves me," I hung my head, gaze falling into my glass of scotch.

'_The goal is to take my mind _off _of Edward. So why did I choose a drink that's the color of his eyes?' _I tossed my head back against the soft cushioned seatback and disposed of the amber liquid in one gulp.

"So what's the problem?" Maes wasn't stupid, he was just a hopeless romantic; he and Gracia were high school sweethearts, so he just assumed that everyone got their fairytale love.

I slowly opened my eyes, schooled my features and tone, and tried to sound patient. "He's young, Maes. He doesn't _know_ what he wants."

Hughes gave a half-laugh, hazel eyes looked conflicted. "Aren't you the one who's always saying that Edward is more grown up than most adults?"

"In the field, where logic and science trump emotion, yes, Ed is more grown up than you or I. But this… he's just not ready for this. Sure, he_ thinks_ he loves me, but when the hormones aren't the driving force beh-."

"Uh, have you _met_ Edward Elric?" Maes interrupted. "He wouldn't be swayed by hormones. He doesn't gush emotion. If he says he loves you, he loves you."

I grabbed the glass of rum that Maes hadn't touched and downed it in two gulps. Another took its place almost instantly courtesy of a passing busboy.

"I want this, Hughes. Oh, god, I want this. Is that so wrong?" I felt hysteria creeping into my voice. I marveled at Maes's control; if the roles were reversed, I would've slapped him by now.

His hazel eyes were soft, smile reassuring. "You deserve to be happy, Roy. If Edward makes you happy-."

"I'm terrified. This whole situation terrifies me." I paused, awestruck. This was so unlike me. "Whenever I'm with him, nothing else matters. All my goals, my ambition, my career – if I had to choose between being Führer of this country or being with him…" I trailed off; there was more I wanted to say, but my thoughts were becoming unbearably cheesy.

I don't know why I kept expecting to see disgust crawl across Hughes's face. Maes was open-minded and understanding. He wanted what was best for those around him.

"Go on," Maes said with a slight nod of encouragement.

I tossed back another glass of rum, ran a hand through my hair – a nervous habit – and continued. "When I'm with him, it's like I'm flying through the clouds; I feel warm and free. When we're apart, it's like I'm tangled in a mess of power-lines; reality comes crashing down and I can't stop thinking about the 'what if's'."

Hughes raised a brow questioningly.

"You know," I clarified, "'What if the military finds out?' or 'what if I can't make him happy?' or – oh, god – 'What if Alphonse doesn't approve?'" That one had just popped into my head.

A bout of panic clouded my senses. It was hard to breathe. I grabbed the lapels of Maes's jacket, shaking him slightly. "Goddamnit, Maes, what if his brother disapproves? Al's approval is _everything_ to Ed-!"

"Calm down, Roy, you're acting stupid. You're both capable of keeping this from the higher-ups; they're the only ones who give a crap. You'll be able to make Ed happy; it really only takes a decent meal and some alchemy books to do that, adding the love of someone like you to the mix will put him on Cloud Nine." He pried my fingers from his lapels, locking my gaze with his before saying, "Alphonse knows when his brother is happy. He'll approve, don't worry."

( )

For the first time since we entered the bar, Roy looked relaxed and worry-free. I took a moment to marvel; it never occurred to me that _Edward Elric _would be the one to steal the Colonel's heart.

When I thought about it, though, they were perfect for each other; they had both endured hardships. Roy had been through the Ishvalan Extermination, witnessed countless deaths and seen more than his fair share of bloodshed. Edward had endured the pain of losing his mother _and_ failing to bring her back, bore more than his share of guilt about his brother's predicament and carried his sins in the form of automail limbs.

They may not have experienced the same things, but they were painful experiences nonetheless. And it had shaped them into what they were today.

I thought about how they impacted each other. When Edward was around, Roy didn't focus so much on his ambitions; he bantered with the boy, joked, and seemed lighter. Edward's quest for the Philosopher's Stone wasn't at the forefront of his mind; he was a ball of energy and snappy comebacks, and he held himself in that moment of familiarity and banter.

"Tell me this isn't just a phase."

I pulled myself out of my thoughts at the desperate tone that laced into Roy's voice.

I felt my gaze soften, and I tried to make my voice equally caring. "It's not a phase," I said firmly. "He loves you, Mustang. Deal with it."

"I love him, Maes. I love Edward Elric." He sounded disbelieving, and he ended his sentence with the first _real_ laugh I'd heard in _ages_.

"The heart wants what it wants," I sighed.

He gave a nod in agreement, a small smile playing with his lips.

"Oh! I almost forgot! Now that your matters of the heart are settled," I dug through my pockets with renewed excitement, "look at this!" My voice was high, and I was oozing fatherly pride. Everyone told me I needed to get a grip on that, but I couldn't help it.

Roy let out a small groan before making himself comfortable. "I've got time for daughter stories," he said.

I tossed him pictures at lightning speed. "Isn't she just ADORABLE? Look, this is the special little swimsuit edition with Mommy's hat on!"

He spent the next thirty minutes listening to me fawn over my dearest little girl. And really, why wouldn't he? She's just the cutest little thing!

( ) ( ) ( )

**The End!**


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